


Abominations

by magifrog



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Illness, Other, Paranoia, Withdrawal, literally any non-mage inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3811045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magifrog/pseuds/magifrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is having some issues, the Inquisitor comforts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abominations

He’s distant.  
You notice how he flinches, how he scans the room as if looking for some dark threat. He’s constantly fidgeting, pulling the fur out of his coats and rubbing his fingers together as you discuss tactics. Sometimes it’s hard to get more than a few words out of him.  
“Cullen,” you say over the clash of recruits sparring, “May we talk?”  
He follows obediently, knowing how stubborn you are when it comes to these matters, although he seems more anxious than ever, scuffing his boots on the dusty ground.  
“What is it, your worship?”  
“You can drop it with that prophecy horse-shit, I want to actually talk to you. I’ve… missed it.” He looks away avoidantly, and you can feel your annoyance heating your blood. “C’mon, Cullen, talk to me.”  
“It’s just- it’s just that I haven’t been sleeping well. The Breach taxes on all of us, and…”  
“Like I believe that.” You hesitate, then pat his shoulder. “If there’s something wrong, don’t you think you should let us know? We need you to be at your best, and I’m… frankly a bit worried about you.”  
“Fine, if… if we’re to discuss this, can we do it somewhere no one can overhear?” You gesture to the soldiers engaged in mock battle.  
“I don’t think even Cassandra would pick up any of our conversation over that din. I would know, I was talking to Va... “ You trail off. Cullen is tense and pale, his eyes focused on Cassandra now. “Cullen? Cullen.”  
“H… hmm?” He seems shaken.  
“On second thought, it is cold, let’s chat inside, alright?” He nods complacently, like a child. It is so uncharacteristic of him that you fear for a second that he’s somehow been replaced or possessed.  
You lead him by the arm into the keep, opening your door for him and latching it shut behind you. With the way he’s acting, you feel a need for the gesture of caution. He sits on your bed, wrapping his furs around him tightly.  
“So, then? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”  
“Well… It’s a bit hard to… say this, since I don’t want anyone worrying about me.” He stares at the patterns of your blankets, tracing a finger along the floral curves. “I’m going through withdrawal, from… from the lyrium they give you as a templar.”  
You vaguely remember his explanation of the potent substance, how it enabled you to do something-or-other to capture mages more efficiently. You think.  
“Can’t we just ration some for you from our supplies?”  
“You know that the mages need it more than I.”  
“I don’t see how that’s true, given you’re not only an advisor to me, but the entire blessed Inquisition army.” He flinches at that.  
“And I haven’t been doing that job very well at all, have I?”  
“No, you’ve been going through your own struggles, don’t blame yourself for that.” Slowly, you settle on the bed close to him, taking his cold hands in your own. “You really have made a difference in this, Cullen, I promise.”  
“I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to let my weakness affect you, I don’t want your pity.”  
“I don’t think you’re getting it, I don’t care if you’re strong or weak. I just want to make sure that you’re not suffering.” He takes his hands out of yours and shakes his head, staring at the scuffed floorboards.  
“I don’t… I can’t trust you, you’re probably trying to… I don’t know, lure me into becoming possessed or something.”  
“Does that sound like something I would do?” You pause. “...Actually, don’t answer that, just… I don’t understand the concern, I’m not even a mage.”  
“I know it’s ridiculous, just- it’s just that everyone keeps looking at me, they all keep asking me things, you included, and… I can’t honestly believe I’m saying this, but… it makes me feel as if they’re on the brink of being turned, becoming godawful abominations.”  
“You saw some, didn’t you, at the Tower?” He nods, and you notice his hands starting to shake and his eyes going glassy. “Hey, hey, c’mere. You’re safe here.”  
Reluctantly, you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing his head to your chest. Cullen relaxes, even only slightly, and you pat his head, unsure how to comfort him.  
“They were awful, and I just… I had to just watch, and they were all around, in my head, everywhere…” His voice breaks, gentle as it is, and you rub your fingers into his hair gently. “That people- that people could be changed into something like that, it makes me… I don’t know th-that I believe in a Maker, or that I can… that I can respect a Maker who stands by and punishes his children.”  
“We did kill his wife,” you say unhelpfully, mentally kicking yourself as soon as you process what you’ve said. “Um, but, you were doing good deeds, trying to help people and keep them safe, so that counts for something. He saved you from the Tower, and I’m sort of… glad he did.”  
“Only sort of…?”  
“No, no! I mean I am glad, I’m really glad to have you here.”  
“...I meant it as a joke, but I suppose my tone of voice doesn’t really match up with my meaning right now.” Cullen lifts his head, offering a weak smile. His eyes are puffy and he still has trouble meeting your gaze, and you very suddenly realize how close you are to each other.  
“That’s… fine, but maybe we should finish up this conversation. Um! Not to be rude, it’s just this kind of… seems weird now.” He immediately detaches, pulling away to the other side of the bed in a flash.  
“I didn’t- I wasn’t thinking of anything like that, I swear!” He stumbles over his words.  
“No, it’s alright, I know you weren’t. I just…” You sigh. “Fuck it, come here.”  
Cullen cautiously complies, letting you dictate the next movements. You embrace him again softly, letting yourself lean against his shoulder. The tension melts from his body, and it fills you with satisfaction, as your more misguided attempts at affection often make him seem more on edge than anything.  
“This is nice.”  
“Yeah…? I don’t recall being acquainted with a Commander Obvious.” The retort rolls out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping it, but to your relief, he snorts amusedly.  
“I meant it makes me feel more… grounded, maybe. Like I was wandering through a fog, and this moment is a ray of sunshine clearing it.”  
“I see I’m to meet his brother, Captain Sentimental.” You press a gentle kiss to Cullen’s cheek. “That’s not to say I don’t like him.”  
“I... Wow, that’s…”  
“I’m sorry, I suppose I should have asked.”  
“No, it’s… just… wow.” His face is red, and it almost makes you want to laugh.  
“I take it templars aren’t trained in any sort of romance, is that it?”  
“That, and I don’t necessarily- I don’t have any particular interest in it, usually, and…” He scans the patterns of the blanket again, sparkling gold on lush green. You pat his arm again.  
“It’s fine, I’m only teasing.” Slowly, you shift so that he can lean against you again. “Besides, we should wait to solve your problems before going ahead with any sort of courtship.” Cullen nods, nestling his head below your neck and closing his eyes.  
“I still don’t know that I like taking away from the troops,” he murmurs. “Lyrium is expensive, especially in these numbers. And… I wanted to know if I could go without, I don’t like the feeling of being hooked on something.”  
“Then we’ll wean you off it, like a puppy. It’ll be easy, I’ve done it a hundred times.”  
“Are you calling me a dog?”  
“...Maybe.” Cullen frowns before you feel his fingers scuttle up your sides. “H-hey!” You squeal and attempt an escape, pushing a pillow into his face. He tosses it aside and goes on the offensive, tickling what he can reach.  
On the bright side, he’s cheered up, you guess.


End file.
